


30 Day OTP Challenge: Johnlock

by Luxurious_Pixeled_Lullimons



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Fic! (At least on here), Fluffy, M/M, Slow updates :/, Smutty at times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 22:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxurious_Pixeled_Lullimons/pseuds/Luxurious_Pixeled_Lullimons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the thirty day OTP challenge for Johnlock. I'm very glad to start on AO3. <3</p><p>DISCONTINUED: READ AT YOUR OWN FREE WILL</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Holding Hands :3

**Author's Note:**

> First fic! (On here). Hope you enjoy the first sketchy chapter of the 30 day OTP challenge!

~~~~  
"Clearly taking 15 west to 95 was wrong. I did tell you to take a cabbie..." Sherlock nagged John as the road to the airport became lost of view. 

"Just hold on, okay?! I'll just make a U-turn somewhere around here-"

"There. U-turn, now!"

John and Sherlock jolted to the right as John turned left, quickly obliging to Sherlock's request. John heard the light tap as head hit glass, worriedly looking over to Sherlock. 

"Well, it was your fault, you said to turn-"

"Not so sharply! I almost broke my...I could've been seriously injured..." Sherlock muttered, rubbing the side of his head.

John tried hard to focus solely on the road, but kept glancing at Sherlock. Even if it was through pain, Sherlock looked quite, interesting in a sort. Running his slim fingers through his black locks. John coughed uncomfortably and focused back on the road. 

"Plus, I don't trust cabbies anymore,"

"John, please, it's very improbable to have another cabbie that murders his customers for a living pick us up, let alone drop us off."

John let out a breath, raising his four fingers from the steering wheel and back again. 

"Shit-Sherlock, can you check if I brought my phone? It should be In the back, somewhere."

"You did, it's In your top shirt pocket."

John sighed in relief as he placed a hand on his pocket to feel the hard sturdy glass. Just as he did so, as if by coincidence, a light hum could be heard and a light shown from it, contrasting deeply with the late evening luminous. John pulled his phone out quickly looking at who had texted at such a late hour. 

"It's from Greg. Tell him I'm driving, will you?"

John handed the phone to Sherlock, reacting by picking it from his grasp and sliding the open bar. 

"Oh, password is-"

"I know." Sherlock muttered as the phone opened to show a home page. 

"How did you-Ungh, never mind."

Sherlock Smirked and looked back down to stare right at a picture of himself. John's background was a picture of them at a holiday party. Sherlock gave a questioning glance over to John. With no immediate intermission, he tapped texts and responded to Lestrade quickly with skill of the 'human era' he called it. Soon, he pressed the home button to see a tab labeled 'Sherlock'.*Tap.* Up popped up numerous photos of him, including the ones from a drunk night he was not officially proud of. He pressed the home button again, clicking the top to shut it off. IPhone 5 then, Hm? Sherlock flipped the phone over in his grasp. He caressed it with his finger, figuring out thirteen deductions about it right there. Sherlock handed the phone back to John, who graciously took it in turn. Sherlock's fingertips brushed across John's pulse; Sending skittering prickles across John's body as he pushed his phone back in place. 

Lately, the attraction had increased, with numerous glances and light taps. John had held the urge to just hold him down and shove his tongue down his throat so far he could never make a deduction again without looking over to John with need in his gray-blue-green eyes. But he had to think of consequences. Obviously one being, Sherlock wasn't interested. 

"You're going to miss our turn if you don't pay attention to the road."

John snapped out of his little pleasure coma and nodded curtly. 

"Sorry-"

"No need," Sherlock summarized, glancing at his watch, "We can always go to The Bahamas next year."

John looked to his watch to see the time clearly read 9:07PM, 23 minutes to catch their flight. John cursed silently and sped up, turning into their exit.  
~~~~  
Three minutes. Lucky, they were. Three minutes to spare before they missed their island getaway. Well, not exactly. It was for a case, you see. Also, they did miss the flight, because it never took off. You see, the plane had broken down, and with no other alternative, they had announced it on the live speaker, blaming it on the weather. John sighed, angry. Angry at the plane, angry at himself, angry at Sherlock. 

"Well, what Do we do, then?"

"The plane'll be up by tomorrow, don't wanna risk paying customers asking For their money back. Did you bring your luggage?"

"Yes, of course I did."

"Not the luggage itself, the case files in them."

_Oh you meant the case files that took up half his luggage and made him reduce his clothes to a bear back state?_

__

"Yes, want to look at them?"

"If you wouldn't mind. Either way, it's not your right to ask me to use the files or not, they're not yours."

_They're not yours either, you lanky git._

__

John handed him the Manilla folders and zipped his luggage back up. 

"Why didn't you bring your own-"

"Luggage? To much time, hassle, money, dull." Sherlock muttered as he became engulfed in thought. 

The case: A man was found outside his flat door last night, face down. Dead. Killed by the bullet lodged in his heart. Yes, that was the easy part. But who had killed him? Master assassin? No, the work to sentimental to Do so. He dismissed the thought from him with a gesture of his hands. Wife? No. The clothes he wore showed he was divorced, clearly. Ex-wife? No. Far to easy. Lover? No.

With every disposition of each theory, Sherlock became more and more agitated. Soon though, he stood with enthusiasm and dismissed his mind palace. He turned to John to begin to explain his thoughts when he realized, John was asleep. Obviously, his eyes closed, his breathing a little to raspy coming out to a snore. Bad airways. He hadn't even realized they'd sat down. Sherlock had studied that face before so many times, but somehow, he couldn't help but look over it again. The lines of laughter and stress traced deep lines Into his face. He could imagine John's laugh, gruffly gentle. The bridge of his nose showed signs of glasses at an early age. His Afghanistan tan. All the above resulted in, John. Sherlock's John. 

Before he knew he was doing it, Sherlock was kneeling right In front of John, trying to examine him closer. With the great dramatization in detail, Sherlock saw every aspect of human, mad he was. John, absolutely mental. That's why Sherlock liked him. Sherlock traced a line down John's hand with his fingernail, as it trying to mark him in a way so only he would know. He placed his hand over John's, smirking at the skin color difference. John murmured gibberish in his sleep, probably caused by a dream relating to modern fantasies. Sherlock turned John's hand slowly, resting it on it's back. Sherlock lay his hand flat against John's. Upside down, as it was, Sherlock felt the grip tighten and watched John's fingers curl against Sherlock's. Sherlock was merely intrigued. The body tends to react on its own while it slept. Before he knew it, he was sitting in the chair next to John, leaning over the metal handle, still _holding his hand._


	2. Day 2: Cuddlin' Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John, elope, as some may call it. o3o I think. Or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw. This ones pretty short. All the ficletts'll be pretty relative to each other. <3 FYI

~~~~  
It wasn't on purpose, really, it just happened...

Sherlock was right, as always. The plane was rescheduled to the following day. 

Though, while on the plane, Sherlock got so very bored. Sherlock hated plane rides, especially public planes for airways, unfortunately like the one they were on. 

John was, unusually sleepy. Or maybe it had just been another 12 hours of alertness, he'd lost track. He groaned in his chair and placed his hands into pyramids in front of his lips. He had already 'deduced' everyone's life stories aboard the plane in sight. All so dull, except for the passenger two rows down. She was running away from her problems, as some Do. Drug Smuggler. He'd have to tell that to the attendant later. He groaned again and grasped the chair arms tightly. 

"Sherlock, I swear, if you groan again or make any type of sound, I will murder you." John whispered, irritated. 

"Oh please, killing me was so two years ago."

John pulled his lips into a thin line and opened his eyes. Sherlock paid no mind and placed his fingers back into his pyramid of thought. John sighed and looked out his window view, the perfect view. The cloudy night sky was beautiful. John looked at his watch to reveal it as 6:26 AM. The sun would be coming up soon. He rested his head back on the chair. It was so, fascinating. He smiled under heavy lidded eyes and began to drift to sleep. Was it suddenly cold in the plane, or was it just him?

"Yes."

"Hm?" John answered groggily, turning his head to Sherlock. 

"It is cold in here."

"Can you ask the flight attendant for a blanket?"

"I have a better Idea. Just go back to sleep."

John was too tired to decline. He heard Sherlock lift the chair arms separating them. Suddenly, he was so very warm. He closed his eyes and cherished the glittery feeling. He burrowed his head into the warmth and smiled. He felt a cheek rest on his hair and snuggle in with him. The warmth wrapped him up like a christmas present. John didn't think twice. 

_Sherlock._

Sherlock was cuddling him. Sherlock? Are we talking about the same Sherlock? The anti-social Sherlock married to his work? Yes. That Sherlock. The same Sherlock. 

_His Sherlock._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Or skipping to the end to read the end notes for some reason. Or to click the next chapter button. Okay then.


	3. Day 3: Gaming/Watching a Movie ;3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock watch some Doctor who. o3o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, I know, sorry >~

"No no no!" Sherlock yelled at the tv screen. 

John heard the muttered wools and hollers as the other team of the game won. 

"Call of Duty, Sherlock?"

"Yes, why?" he said, rapidly pushing buttons and flicking the joystick. 

"Nothing just, peculiar."

"Hm, why?" Sherlock turned to John, immediately getting shanked in the back. 

 _*Humiliation!*_ flashed across the screen. He grunted and left the lobby after the match ended. 

"Sorry."

"No need," Sherlock said sliding the headphones off and throwing them to his side by the recently bought Xbox. 

"You know, you could've done something much less expensive rather than but this, rubbish."

"Rubbish? I think the gamer society would disagree with you on that. Are you really that surprised?"

"Not as much as I should be." John sighed, swiping the butter across his bread with the knife in his right hand. 

The flat they'd acquired for the investigation wasn't very big, nor was it small. One double bed- though Sherlock rarely slept. One decent kitchen/dining room though Sherlock rarely ate. And lots of chairs, but Sherlock rarely sat. 

"Yes, I mean, I shouldn't waste my time on such petty pleasure, mindless these games are. But it was an experiment. We have two free days with nothing to Do. So why not try to measure the capacity of teenage brains as related to this game. Badly used grammar and horrid reactions to losing or winning. _Pigs..." _Sherlock muttered, irritated to quite an extent.__

__"Hey, want anything?"_ _

__"Please, John, be more specific. I assume you mean by kitchen standards, though."_ _

__"Yes, any food?"_ _

__"Just tea for me, thanks."_ _

__"Already have some." John smiled, placing the hot cuppa in front of Sherlock. He plopped down by Sherlock, turning the tele to the BBC Channel._ _

__"Want to watch some tele to cheer you up?"_ _

__"I hardly need cheering up as much as I need this cuppa."_ _

__"So I'm going with a yes."_ _

__Sherlock sighed but nodded John to continue on. Sherlock snuggled himself into the couch before turning to look at the tv screen._ _

__"Doctor who?"_ _

__"Yeah, it's amazing, isn't it?"_ _

__"I would know, haven't seen it before. But judging by your standards, no."_ _

__

__There he goes again, insulting everyone like he's fucking Einstein. Well, he's even more._ _

__"Just watch it."_ _

__As the show went on, Sherlock insulted everything the Doctor did, especially with The Master. "He should have killed him" or something like that. He continued to criticize the show until the last episode played, and they watched Amy ripple back in time. Their emotion was so touching. John wanted to cry. Sherlock, on the other hand, was far too annoyed, staring out a window. John shut off the tele and rose._ _

__"Why are you going?"_ _

__"Make dinner. It's seven. What Do you want?"_ _

__"Just tea-"_ _

__"If you say "Just tea for me, thanks" I will force feed you an entire army worth."_ _

__Sherlock looked over curiously at John._ _

__"Whatever you're cooking."_ _

__"Okay, Chinese it is."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Or skipping to the end to read the end notes for some reason. Or to leave a comment. Aww Ty ^3^


	4. Day 4: On a Date~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 of the otp challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for shit updates and drabbles! I'm making another fic along with this :3

"It is not a date. We are not dating. I am not gay." John pouted as Sherlock sat down at the table. 

"Don't pout, John. It makes you look needy."

"Sherlock, look me in the eye and tell me. This. Is. Not. A. _Date._ " 

Sherlock huffed and stayed silent, until, of course, he got bored. He began 'deducing' the people of the restaurant, until John interrupted him with, 

"Sherlock, we are not dating. This is not a date. Can you say that?"

"I don't understand why you mind so much. Anyway, see the girl at that table over there, she's going to..."

John zoned out. 

_Why don't I care do much? Why don't I mind?! We're friends! We're not dating! Right?_

"John." 

Sherlock's deep voice broke him out of his little trance. 

"Yes, sorry?"

"You weren't listening. You always listen, even when I bore you. What were you thinking of?"

"Nothing, continue with, whatever you were saying."

"I was saying that friends are no longer necessary to me."

"What?"

"You heard me. I Do hate to repeat myself."

"Does this mean we're not mates anymore?"

"No John, it means we're 'best friends' as some happen to say."

John smiled, despite his feelings at the moment. 

"Also, your vodka-tini will be here in a couple minutes. Then the jack shots and the beer mugs-"

"What?"

"I ordered you every liquor on the menu. Don't worry, Mycroft's paying."

Sherlock gestured to a card, no doubt Mycroft's Credit card. 

"Sherlock-"

"And don't forget the wine and Champagne!"

"Sherlock! This is not a date!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Yada yada, see you, bye!


	5. Day 5: Kissing ^3^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again sorri for worst updates. I'm trying ;3;

John was drifting to sleep at the tele screen with it playing Oldies from the 60's, of course, until Sherlock burst in, immediately following with the longest essay of dialogue ever produced by a human. John rubbed the arch of his nose. 

"Sherlock, couldn't you see  I was trying to sleep?"

"Nonsense! We have a case! Much more exciting than sleep!"

"I know we have a case, and I'm not one to complain, but I'm tired. I haven't slept in nearly two days. And it's ten thirty." John mumbled, checking his watch. 

"But, I-"

"Go ahead if you found something, tell Greg. I'll be here if you need me." John said wearily. 

Sherlock wavered at the door before closing it behind him and slipping into the sofa, beside John. 

"That's a surprise."

"Why ever so?"

"You're, sitting. Just after you'd figured out a case."

"I haven't figured it out, but I've simply gotten closer to the answer. You see,"

John was much too tired to listen. He began drifting again, until he was fully engulfed in slumber. Sherlock seemed to notice and quieted. 

John, Sherlock's favorite puzzle. 

Sherlock watched John sleep for what seemed like hours. He should be bored, but he wasn't. John Watson, a mystery in himself. Sherlock placed his hand over John's again, making sure it was of body temperature so it was harder to detect. He stayed that way for about an hour until he had the courage to lean over and place his lips on John's. 

Sure Sherlock had kissed before, but he'd never been very confident. Especially as a Teen. Why hadn't John come into his life sooner?

Back to the moment of truth; Sherlock backed into his normal spot on the sofa and smiled, until he realized that John had stopped breathing. Or, at least audibly. 

"John?"

John opened his eyes, wide. Realizing what Sherlock dreaded, Sherlock cursed himself. Why hadn't he waited! Now their friendship was over!

"John, I-I'm sorry. Really, just ignore it."

John looked over at Sherlock, eyes still as wide as saucers. He let out his breath. 

"Sherlock..."

"John, please, I'm sorry." 

Sherlock closed his eyes and waited for his so dreaded punishment. 

"Sherlock," Here it comes. ",You idiot." John chuckled. 

Sherlock opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow at John. 

"What?" John chuckled. 

"Aren't you going to storm out dramatically, sending someone to get your stuff later, telling me our friendship was over?"

"Is that what you think happens?"

"It's the logical thing, yes."

"You're such an idiot."

"I'm sorry."

 Sherlock Bowed his head. John lifted Sherlock's face with his hands on both of Sherlock's cheeks. 

"You brilliant idiot."

"John, I highly doubt I could be both an-"

"Just shut up, now. Don't talk, my sweet Sherlock."

John leaned in and up, pressing his lips to Sherlock's. John's tongue coaxed Sherlock's lips open, easing its way into Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock let out a small moan of pleasure as their tongues inter-twined. John pulled away, Sherlock letting out a small whimper of protest. John grabbed the blanket from the armchair and wrapped it around the both of them. He snuggled himself into Sherlock's chest, resting his head on the nape of Sherlock's neck. Sherlock nuzzled John with his chin, wrapping his arms around John.

"You know we're not just mates anymore, right?"

"Best mates?"

"Oh you dunce," John squeezed Sherlock lightly. "I'll Show you in the morning."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Teh reads! Or skipping to the end to read the end notes for some reason, or just to click the next chapter button. Hold up bro!


End file.
